While Charlotte was enjoying &longs;ome &longs;mall
degree of comfort in the con&longs;oling

[figure description] Page 114.[end figure description]

friendship of Mrs. Beauchamp, Montraville was advancing
rapidly in his affection towards Mi&longs;s Franklin.
Julia was an amiable girl; &longs;he &longs;aw only the fair &longs;ide
of his character; &longs;he po&longs;&longs;e&longs;&longs;ed an independant fortune,
and re&longs;olved to be happy with the man of her
heart, though his rank and fortune were by no
means &longs;o exalted as &longs;he had a right to expect; &longs;he
&longs;aw the pa&longs;&longs;ion which Montraville &longs;truggled to conceal;
&longs;he wondered at his timidity, but imagined
the di&longs;tance fortune had placed between them occasioned
his backwardne&longs;s, and made every advance
which &longs;trict prudence and a becoming modesty
would permit. Montraville &longs;aw with plea&longs;ure
he was not indifferent to her, but a &longs;park of honour
which animated his bo&longs;om would not &longs;uffer
him to take advantage of her partiality. He was
well acquainted with Charlotte's &longs;ituation, and he
thought there would be a double cruelty in for&longs;aking
her at &longs;uch a time: and to marry Mi&longs;s Franklin,
while honour, humanity, every &longs;acred law, obliged
him &longs;till to protect and &longs;upport Charlotte, was a
ba&longs;en&longs;s which his &longs;oul &longs;huddered at.

He communicated his unea&longs;ine&longs;s to Belcour: it
was the very thing this pretended friend had
wi&longs;hed. “And do you really.” &longs;aid he, laughing,
“he&longs;itate at marrying the lovely Julia, and
becoming ma&longs;ter of her fortune, becau&longs;e a little
fooli&longs;h, fond girl cho&longs;e to leave her friends, and
run away with you to America. Dear

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Montraville, act more like a man of &longs;en&longs;e; this whining,
pining Charlotte, who occa&longs;ions you &longs;o much uneasiness,
would have eloped with &longs;omebody el&longs;e if &longs;he
had not with you.”

“Would to heaven,” &longs;aid Montraville, “I had
never &longs;een her; my regard for her was but the momentary
pa&longs;&longs;ion of de&longs;ire, but I feel I &longs;hall love and
revere Julia Franklin as long as I live; yet to leave
poor Charlotte in her pre&longs;ent &longs;ituation would be
cruel beyond de&longs;cription.”

“Oh my good &longs;entimental friend,” &longs;aid Belcour,
“do you imagine no body has a right to provide
for the brat but your&longs;elf.”

Montraville &longs;tarted. “Sure,” &longs;aid he, “you
cannot mean to in&longs;inuate that Charlotte is fal&longs;e.”

“I don't in&longs;inuate it,” &longs;aid Belcour, “I
know it.”

Montraville turned pale as a&longs;hes. “Then there
is no faith in woman,” &longs;aid he.

“While I thought you attached to her,” &longs;aid
Belcour with an air of indifference, “I never wished
to make you unea&longs;y by mentioning her perfidy,
but as I know you love and are beloved by Mi&longs;s
Franklin, I was determined not to let the&longs;e fooli&longs;h
&longs;cruples of honour &longs;tep between you and happiness,
or your tenderne&longs;s for the peace of a perfidious
girl prevent your uniting your&longs;elf to a woman of
honour.”

“Good heavens!” &longs;aid Montraville, “what

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poignant reflections does a man endure who &longs;ees a
lovely woman plunged in infamy, and is con&longs;cious
he was her fir&longs;t &longs;educer; but are you certain of
what you &longs;ay, Belcour?”

“So far,” replied he, “that I my&longs;elf have received
advances from her which I would not take
advantage of out of regard to you: but hang it,
think no more about her. I dined at Franklin's today,
and Julia bid me &longs;eek and bring you to tea: &longs;o
come along, my lad, make good u&longs;e of opportunity,
and &longs;eize the gifts of fortune while they are within
your reach.”

Montraville was too much agitated to pa&longs;s a
happy evening even in the company of Julia
Franklin: he determined to vi&longs;it Charlotte early
the next morning, tax her with her fal&longs;ehood, and
take an everla&longs;ting leave of her; but when the
morning came, he was commanded on duty, and
for &longs;ix weeks was prevented from putting his de&longs;ign
in execution. At length he found an hour to &longs;pare,
and walked out to &longs;pend it with Charlotte: it was
near four o'clock in the afternoon when he arrived
at her cottage: &longs;he was not in the parlour, and
without calling the &longs;ervant he walked up &longs;tairs,
thinking to find her in her bed room. He opened
the door, and the fir&longs;t object that met his eyes was
Charlotte a&longs;leep on the bed, and Belcour by her
&longs;ide.

“Death and di&longs;traction,” &longs;aid he, &longs;tamping,
“this is too much. Ri&longs;e, villain, and defend

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yourself.” Belcour &longs;prang from the bed. The noi&longs;e awoke
Charlotte: terrified at the furious appearance
of Montraville, and &longs;eeing Belcour with him in the
chamber, &longs;he caught hold of his arm as he &longs;tood
by the bed &longs;ide, and eagerly a&longs;ked what was the
matter.

“Treacherous infamous girl,” &longs;aid he, “can
you a&longs;k? How came he here?” pointing to
Belcour.

“As heaven is my witne&longs;s,” replied &longs;he weeping,
“I do not know. I have not &longs;een him for the&longs;e
three weeks.”

“Then you confe&longs;s he &longs;ometimes vi&longs;its you?”

“He came &longs;ometimes by your de&longs;ire.”

“'Tis fal&longs;e; I never de&longs;ired him to come, and
you know I did not: but mark me, Charlotte, from
this in&longs;tant our connexion is at an end. Let Belcour,
or any other of your favoured lovers, take you
and provide for you: I have done with you for
ever.”

He was then going to leave her: but &longs;tarting
wildly from the bed, &longs;he threw her&longs;elf on her knees
before him, prote&longs;ting her innocence and entreating
him not to leave her. “Oh Montraville,”
&longs;aid &longs;he, “kill me, for pity's &longs;ake kill me, but
do not doubt my fidelity. Do not leave me in this
horrid &longs;ituation; for the &longs;ake of your unborn child,
oh! &longs;purn not the wretched mother from you.”

“Charlotte,” &longs;aid he, with a firm voice, “I

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&longs;hall take care that neither you nor your child want
any thing in the approaching painful hour; but we
meet no more.” He then endeavoured to rai&longs;e her
from the ground: but in vain: &longs;he clung about
his knees, entreating him to believe her innocent,
and conjuring Belcour to clear up the dreadful
my&longs;tery.

Belcour ca&longs;t on Montraville a &longs;mile of contempt:
it irritated him almo&longs;t to madne&longs;s; he broke from the
feeble arms of the di&longs;tre&longs;&longs;ed girl; &longs;he &longs;hricked and
&longs;ell pro&longs;trate on the floor.

Montraville in&longs;tantly left the hou&longs;e and returned
ha&longs;tily to the city.